Reminiscence
by Arizosa
Summary: Harry goes up to the East Tower to think. But something that begin as thoughts slowly escalates to something more...


Disclaimer: The privilege of ownership doesn't belong to me; it belongs to J.K. Rowling and Scholastic, Warner Bros. Etc.

Beta: NovaStardust, Pickled Rellish

Genre: Angst/Tragedy

Rating: This chapter is purely R

Spoilers: 1-5

Warning: Contains suicide

Summary: Harry goes up to the East Tower to think. But something beginning as thoughts slowly escalates to something more -contains suicide-

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I walked with a fast pace up, up, not caring if my stonehard facial expression scared the first years or made the older ones look at me with shrewd eyes as I went through the corridor til I came to my destination; the East Tower.

I glared at the blue sky as I arrived to the top, and I found myself wishing for thunder, to suit my mood. How can everything still hold such utter beauty while I, myself, happen to be an abomination and filth to everything that this beauty contains? My green emerald orbs lost their focus, and I knew that the hard glint in them was coming forth even more.

Why can't someone help me. Help me destroy him. Instead they are herding me towards 'my fate', with no training, nothing. It was pure luck I escaped that last time. He was still weak from the transformation from soul to a body. They are going to loose this war, all because they put their faith on this boy, me, which have everyone and everything around him destroyed. The wizarding world, if they started to go together, if they used those powers that a Muggle would give anything to be granted to weild, and protect everyone, the Death Eaters would have no chance of doing as much damage as they do. I myself included. I have no training in combat. I have a good idea of what to do with them, but I can by no means wisp up a curse or sheild should a person attack me, just the stupid Expelliarmus and a Stupefy. That is all I can do. Dumbledore won't do it and if he did train me now, it would be too late.

He give half truths and riddles and when I think I have them figured out, I come to realize that they were wrong anyway, putting me in danger just to learn something that he could have told me himself. Secrets. That is all he is good for. That and power. He say he protect me, but every year I have to battle off his misguided Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers. Every year I have to face death, and he still doesn't tell me anything. If he did I would know. I would know what to do and what not to do. What choices I could make. He will not let me do that. He will manipulate and sweet talk in his own grandfatherly way. I am sick of it. They say he was a Gryffindor in his young years. I think it is something he has let them believe. He is positively Slytherin when it come to plots within plots to scheme and get his way. That people who follow him does not see this is unimaginable, but non the less true. Sheep following a leader they know is the wolf, but try to fool themselves into thinking he is not. Will not see the truth as I do. If he can not be trusted with my life, then definetly not with others mortality.

Voldemort is still wary to come and challenge us. I and the Headmaster. Two powers. One grand and wise. One grand and knowledgeless. He will come soon. I know it. Feel it in my bones.

Voldemort has recruted thousands. Many of the dark creatures have sided with him, and as the Wizarding World stand now, they brought his victory on themselves.

I can feel my eyes moisten.

Sirius, yes he knew what war was like, he had the training that the rest of us hadn't, used his humor as his shield from the bad. And he died.

Because I was a fool.

Cedric died because I was a fool.

Minerva, Hagrid, Flitwick, Sinistra. Even the old bat died, Severus Snape. They all died for nothing.

Hermione and Ron. Ron and Hermione. Hermione and Ron. They are no friends of mine. I got possessed by Voldemort. I killed Neville, Dean, Seamus. Everyone in my dormitory, except Ron. He was with Hermione 'studying'. One of the more stupid lies I've heard and I've heard many. That night I woke up to screaming, with my knees fallen in warm blood. On the walls, on the bed curtains, on the ceiling, still dripping. I was covered in it. Even the inside of my robes was soaked, my skin slick with red. I clutched my head in my hands. The screaming. Who was screaming? Why? How? What happend here! The quiet bounce from the rinning walls. A soft steady splatter from the bedposts around me. Spring rain. Yes, with my eyes closed I could imagine it. The soft caress on the ground, steadily giving higher and thicker drops as more rain came.

I feel a shaking hand by my shoulder. Not touching but hovering. Asking me if I am alright. Asking me what happened. Asking me if there was an attack. Asking questions that I couldn't, wouldn't answer; because if I did, it would all be true.

A bird flew past my face, startling me out of my thoughts. It looked so free. Standing on the edge I look out over my world. Everything that is me. Hagrids Hut, dark and empty. The Forest with its many inhabitants whos intent is killing anyone entering. Hogsmeade. A name said with joy in the past, now though, with malice. I truly understood that Hermione and Ron had left me forever. They left me truly alone to fight, because they were afraid of me. Hogwarts, my home. The ghosts are my friends, as are the paintings. The whole of Hogwarts is my keeper and my friend. She lets me out when I need it, helps me in the direst of situations with an escape.

I suddenly saw how far out I was leaning and, looking down on the soft green grass below, I thought; "why not" and slowly fell outward to let the ground embrace me.


End file.
